


Olivia's Octave

by SuperFerret



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Older Woman/Younger Man, Piano, Sexual Content, Some Plot, but not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFerret/pseuds/SuperFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James receives news that a good friend has died. After mysteriously leaving work early, M goes in search of her James knowing just what he needs to start healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olivia's Octave

“Where’s Bond?” asked M. “He was supposed to be in here ten minutes ago.”

It wasn’t urgent that she see him but she thought it odd that he was late. He liked to be punctual, perhaps it was the navy training, but his absence was becoming more and more noticeable. Tanner looked to be steeling himself for something.

“Actually, Ma’am,” he said, “I believe he’s gone home.”

“What the bloody hell do we pay him for?” she sniped. It was only two o’clock in the afternoon. “And did Commander Bond explain _why_ he was going awol?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Bloody typical. Even when he’s on home soil it wasn’t possible to keep track of him. Perhaps a shock collar might be of some use after all, she mused.

“However, I have reason to believe,” Tanner continued, “that he has just received news of a harrowing nature and that his absconding may be a result of that.”

What could possibly harrow the great James Bond? He had no family left, M was perfectly healthy and his cars, as far as she knew, were all in perfect working order. Had he ordered a new suit and discovered Savile Row had run out of Super 110s Italian wool and had to make it 100% polyester? Was his Aston Martin Vantage only available in appletree green when he wanted amethyst red?

“What do you know about it?” she asked. She couldn’t fathom any possible answer to her questions.

“I overheard a phone call. I believe an older gentleman he was close to has died. Bond asked when and how it happened and then said ‘he was an old man but a great friend’ and that he would see the caller next Thursday. One would assume that refers to a funeral.”

M was ashamed of herself. She had forgotten that underneath the fast cars and sharp tailoring there was still a man and yet she was supposed to know him better than most. It was true that he’d had no family to grow up with but Kincade, the gamekeeper, was a surrogate father to him. He had protected James when his parents died even though he was not his legal guardian. James had told her many stories of how Kincade taught him to shoot pheasant and how to hunt deer. For James to be so affected by a death that must be what had happened.

“Very well, Mr Tanner. Reschedule his workload for today only, and make arrangements for him for the funeral.”

“If what I suspect is true, he may need more support than we can give him, Ma’am.”

As Chief of Staff Tanner was paid to know these kinds of things but M was still surprised at the intuition and compassion he displayed. M was growing more worried about her James by the minute.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see to him. Thank you,” she said. Tanner nodded and gave her a small smile before leaving her office and closing the door behind him. M fumbled for her phone and wondered what she might find when she returned home.

*

M waited until the end of the day to go to him. She was mistaken to think he might be waiting at her apartment so as soon as she realised he was not there she went straight to his place. She always felt grief was much easier to tackle when you weren’t cocooned in your own bubble; when her husband had died she felt relief being anywhere other than her own home. Having left a suitable gap for his own contemplation she was sure it was time for her to be with him.

As she made it up to his door, she knew he was in there. She could hear the unmistakeable sounds of piano music muffled through the door. It was like a soft lullaby with a slow plodding melody. He didn’t usually listen to that kind of music; perhaps Kincade had. She knocked on his door and the music stopped instantly.

James opened the door, still dressed in an impeccable suit with his tie smartly knotted and his jacket and shoes still on. It looked like he’d only just got home.

“Hello, James,” she tried to keep the pity from her eyes but she was so worried about him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” He held the door open for her and she tottered in. Once he’d closed the door he took her up into a strong hug and didn’t let go for a while. 

“I don’t know how you knew but I’m glad you’re here,” he said into her neck. He was much quieter than usual. M held him close, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them she noticed something new in his apartment.

“That wasn’t here yesterday, was it?” she asked. “I know I’m getting on a bit but my memory isn’t that bad.”

James released her only enough to be able to keep her in his arms whilst at the same time looking at what she’d seen: a grand piano.

“I picked it up this afternoon.”

M pushed herself out of his arms and sat on the piano stool. It looked far too big for the room and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d got it in there but that wasn’t the biggest thing on her mind. He hadn’t been listening to music; he had been playing it.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano.”

“I can’t.” He joined her on the stool. “Not really. My mother used to play and taught me a couple of tunes. That’s all I remember.”

He very slowly fingered the notes with his right hand and M recognised it as the tune she heard from the door. 

“When they died I channelled all my grief into playing this. It focused me, distracted me. I sort of released my pain through the music.” He lifted his left hand to join in and quietly play the tune again. “It’s like I’ve lost them all over again. I am completely alone.”

M rested her head on his shoulder as he played and waited for him to finish before she spoke.

“I’m right here with you, James. I won’t leave you.”

“That's a lie. You can’t know that,” he murmured, looking at his hands and never her.

“Not tonight. I won’t leave you tonight.” She turned towards him, picked up one of his hands and pushed his palm into her chest so that he could feel her heart beating. James turned his head and gazed unfocused right through her heart. “I shall stay by your side for as long as I can.”

She lifted the hand from her chest and raised it to her lips. James took a deep sigh as she softly kissed his knuckles before returning his hand to his lap. M noticed his trousers looked tented. James shifted uncomfortably and continued to avoid her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he put his hands across his crotch to try and cover it up. “I don’t know why it’s…”

But M understood. She knew exactly why. She had suffered the confusion and embarrassment when her husband had died but it wasn’t until much later that she absolved herself from guilt. It wasn’t an accident or a sign of sexual arousal. 

“I know why.” She peeled his hands away from trying to hide himself. “You need to feel close to someone. You need to cleanse your soul of loneliness and feel like you aren’t the only one who can feel this. Grief builds like a pressure cooker and this is your body’s suggestion for releasing that tension. As a boy you channelled your grief into music. As a man your instincts channel into something else. It’s part of the healing process.

“It’s okay.” M stood up and placed her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s okay that you want to touch yourself. It’s okay to feel fucked up and confused. And it’s okay to enjoy it."

She kissed the side of his face and popped to the bedroom. She removed her stockings and knickers from under her skirt and picked up the bottle of lube from the bedside drawer before returning to the piano and discovering James still sat on the piano stool but now he had turned round with his back to the keys. James had gotten as far as unbuttoning his trousers and M could see his almost fully erect cock sticking out of his boxers but he seemed uneasy about doing anything with it. 

She stood in front of him and kissed him lightly on the lips. As she pulled back he pushed his face forward as if he didn’t want to lose contact with her. She held the side of his face and stroked a thumb across his cheek. His eyes screamed ‘help me, heal me.’ She knelt down in front of him and caressed his cock so that she could gently kiss the tip. She kissed it again, so tender and caring, and it stiffened more. 

“All I can think about is how I want to be inside you,” he growled. He ran his hands across his face. “I can’t do this without you, Oli.”

“I’m here for you, James,” she peered up at him. “I shall only do what you ask, no more.”

She placed her mouth around the tip of his cock and looked up at him awaiting confirmation. He said nothing, only nodded. M slowly sank down the length of his cock and back up again.

“Fuck!” he shouted. He sounded angry and squirmed a little. M paused at his tip. “Do that again.”

She sank down and up again and flicked his tip with her tongue. He swore again even louder. His gaze pierced her eyes as she patiently awaited her next order. It was all about control. He had lost control of the universe through the death of a friend and this was the easiest way to gain it back again. 

“Get on.”

He couldn’t say any more than what he needed. There was no ‘fuck, Olivia, you feel so good wrapped around my cock.’ There was no ‘such a good little slut taking my cock like this.’ He needed her and she gladly gave herself to him again. She pulled his boxers and trousers to the floor, over his shoes and left them in a pile.

She squeezed a generous amount of lubricant onto her palm and quickly slathered it over his cock and around her own entrance. It would be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like she was a nubile teenager any more. Her body would soon remember how to accommodate him.

M closed the lid to the piano keys and lifted her skirt. She held onto James’s shoulder as she placed her legs around the back of him so she could just about stand with her heels on and they were seated face to face. His hands supported her ass and he used the piano to support his back. M was poised over his cock and when he nodded she gradually slid onto him. 

Her walls were stretching but the lube took the edge off the discomfort. When she hit the bottom they were both breathing deeply and James was holding her so tightly, pulling her towards his chest. She knew what it felt like to be in need like this, to need another body to be part of. She waited for him to release her before she gently began rocking back and forth on top of him. It would be painful to her if she lifted herself off him and anyway, she suspected he needed to feel as much of her around him as possible. 

She rocked and rocked, feeling her clitoris warming against him. James still grasped her hips and was using all his might to rock her back and forth so she barely had to exert any effort herself. It was quick, and hardly ambitious, but within minutes they were both moaning each other’s names. 

“Come with me,” he ordered. “Come now.”

She didn’t feel close enough to orgasm to obey but when she saw James’ face contort and heard him shout, “Olivia, Olivia, Olivia,” she couldn’t help herself. It came from nowhere and she held herself close to her James as if he wasn’t already squeezing her tighter than ever. Every pleasurable wave felt just as wrong as much as it felt right. She stayed sat on him for a while although she wasn’t sure she could move off him by herself anyway. James’ arm was wrapped up the length of her back under her shirt so she could feel a warm hand between her shoulders. He looked lost in her.

M tugged away which brought James back to reality. They were going to need tissues but they were on the other side of the room. James appeared to be thinking along similar lines as he grabbed her bottom and lifted her across the room, his cock still buried deep inside her. He leant over so that she could pluck out some tissues and she couldn’t help but giggle. James paused for a moment but M saw a reluctant smile creeping out in spite of the grief he felt.

He returned to the piano stool so that M could lever herself up and artfully stagger to the bathroom to clean up. On the way she replaced her underwear but left her stockings balled up, too lazy to put them back on. 

Back at the piano James was once again fully clothed from the waist down but he had removed his jacket and tie and undone his shirt by a few buttons. His right hand was idly playing the melody from before but when M entered the room he stopped to admire her. She once again sat next to him but this time placed a finger on the same note as him, only a couple of octaves higher. It didn't look so hard. James played another note. M followed and pressed the equivalent key again.

“Can you teach me?” she asked. James played three notes in succession and M repeated it. He chuckled at her.

“No,” he said simply. She was confused. It didn’t look particularly difficult. You just had to remember which bit of wood to hit, surely. His denial just made her more determined to do it. Or perhaps it was because it was his tune, for his grief, and she wasn’t allowed to be a part of it. If he taught it to her then it might not work so well at healing him. She wasn’t family to him; she was just his boss really. What right did she have to share in something so personal? She suddenly regretted asking.

“That’s alright. I understand,” she said, solemnly resting her head against his shoulder again.

James’ shoulders jostled as he started laughing at her. She was glad to see him happy again even if she had no idea why.

“Well,” he started, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks…”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure out of which hole in the depths of my mind this idea was festering but it's free now. 
> 
> I love the idea that these two understand each other better than they understand themselves and I'll continue to throw them at each other like this. They know just how to cheer the other up. Sex is inevitable really!
> 
> In other news, I want to give James a cuddle.


End file.
